Sacred Snow
by Hota
Summary: Bad Luck is touring in America during the season of good cheer. Yuki has come along as well, but how will being back in NY affect him? And how will the others spend the holidays? - Angst and romance


**AN**: Finished this about a couple weeks ago and just tweaked it into a final form. This is my Christmas present to everyone I know who is involved in the Gravi fandom, and to myself, since I slipped my OTP in here. 3 Not sure when part two will be done, hopefully before Xmas... sigh   
Please review and **Merry (early) Christmas, minna-san!**  
**Posted: Dec. 11, 2004**

**Sacred Snow  
Chapter One**

Snow drifted lazily from the sky, settling gently on the first surface it came into contact with. The wind blew in gentle gusts, sending the flakes into swirls of confusion before they added to the inches already piled on the ground. Puffs of cooled breath filled the air rhythmically as the young man meandered down the path of the park, his bright indigo eyes taking in the scene of the sunset's amber and scarlet light glinting through the snow-caked branches.

It was peaceful, he thought. The air was crisp and cool, the wind wasn't blowing harshly like it had been for the past few days, and the racket of the city was muffled enough that it could be called quiet. If it hadn't been so cold, he'd have been content to stay there forever, soaking up the tranquility of nature. After the two weeks of touring for _Bad Luck_, he was thoroughly enjoying the small break. Though, now that he was able to relax, he was starting to miss his pink hair. It had been his decision to dye it back to its natural colour – now that he was nearly twenty-one and no longer identified with the pink – and the others had agreed with his choice shortly before going on tour.

Parting his lips, the currently brown-haired singer let out a long, slow sigh, watching the cloud of breath dissipate into the air. _"Oh, the weather outside is frightful,"_ he sang softly, grinning at the uneven puffs that formed from his mouth. He flicked his tongue against his lips, about to continue the song he'd heard playing in a store earlier, only to have a half-squawk, half-shriek of surprise escape instead as something ice-cold smacked into the back of his neck.

He spun around, jumping and squirming as he tried to get the snow out of his shirt. He snarled in annoyance when his actions merely let the snow slide further down his back. Spotting his attacker, he gave up on that task and scooped up a handful of the white powder. "Hiro, you bastard!" he cried, chunking the partly formed snowball at his laughing friend, disappointed when it only hit his shoulder. Shaking his head faintly, he shook the back of his coat and shirt as he headed over to the guitarist. "When'd you guys get back?" he asked, glancing to where K and Suguru were approaching. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Yuki standing a few yards off where he'd been watching the entire time, a trail of smoke from his cigarette faintly visible.

"Just now," replied the redhead, brushing the splattered snow off his shoulder with a grin. Reaching down, he grabbed more snow and idly smoothed it into a ball with his gloved hands. "What have you been doing? Besides walking aimlessly around Central Park?" he questioned.

Shuichi eyed the forming weapon warily, shivering at the chills still running through him from the last hit. "Walking aimlessly around Central Park," he replied, sticking his tongue out at his friend. He cried out in shock as Hiro smashed the snowball into his face, immediately taking after the redhead as he wiped it off, ignoring the cold in favour of payback. "Hiro!" he growled, not quite able to catch up due to the other man's longer legs.

Hiro glanced briefly over his shoulder and instantly tripped over his own two feet and the thick snow, staggering and managing to catch himself, only to be barreled over as the younger male crashed into him. They fell to the ground amid a tangle of limbs, snow caking onto them as they wrestled.

After a long struggle full of laughter and smashing snow into each other's face, Shuichi finally managed to pin the guitarist beneath him with a triumphant grin. He smirked down at Hiro, opening his mouth to start gloating when a snowball smacked him upside the head. He looked around and blinked curiously as he saw Suguru slowly walking toward them, another ball already forming in his hands.

The singer cackled and leered down at his friend. "What kind of man are you, having to be saved by your boyfri-" he started, squawking when the compacted snow slammed into his back this time. He growled and rolled off the redhead, grabbing snow to retaliate with and hurling it at the younger male. He cheered when it flew into Suguru's shoulder, some apparently flecking against his skin judging from the soft exclamation of surprise.

"Don't make me go AZN on yo' ass, Shindou-san," Suguru said calmly, eyeing the singer with something close to humour dancing in his eyes as he stopped nearby. Over the past few years of being in _Bad Luck_, combined with his newly formed, tentative relationship with Hiro, the keyboardist had loosened up a bit; at least enough to form a relatively stable friendship with the singer. They'd even found a few points of common ground between them.

Shuichi choked on his laughter and looked up at the green-haired boy. "Where'd you hear _that_ saying?" he cackled, barely dodging the snowball that flew toward him moments later.

"I think he picked it up at that club," Hiro replied in amusement, flinging a handful of powdered snow at the other two from his reclining position on the ground.

"Well, wherever you heard it, Fujisaki, I'm curious to see exactly what you mean by going Asian on me," the vocalist said with a grin. He slowly cupped some snow in his hand as he stared at the other male in the pretense of waiting for an answer, swiftly launching himself at Suguru's legs moments later.

The keyboardist's eyes widened in surprise as he tried to backpedal in vain, inevitably falling to the ground as he was tackled. "Shindou-san!" he yelped, flailing beneath the slightly taller man. He spluttered in indignation when snow was smashed into his face and hair. When Shuichi tried to escape, he rolled and grabbed the singer's leg, resulting in another wrestling match.

Hiro shook his head with a laugh, satisfying himself with pelting the other two with snowballs from a few feet away. Within minutes he had been pulled into the skirmish as well, each of them trying to see who could pin the other two the longest. The mock-fight went on for a long while, and by the time they finally calmed down their faces were flushed from the cold, bright-red staining their noses and cheeks.

Hiro was sprawled on his back, Shuichi having collapsed against the redhead's chest while Suguru reclined near them. All three were panting heavily, breathless laughs escaping occasionally as they enjoyed the crisp air and easy atmosphere between them.

Yuki watched the entire scene with calm, piercing amber eyes, idly smoking his cigarettes as K stood guard over the three. Though at this time of day, with the sun just disappearing beneath the horizon, they were the only ones left in the park.

"All right you guys, let's get you inside where it's nice and warm before you catch pneumonia or something," the American called after dusk had settled. He hefted the few bags Suguru had pawned off on him earlier and headed toward the trio, reaching a hand down to pull them to their feet. "I swear, I don't know what to do with you sometimes," he said, shaking his head faintly, though it was in good humour. He knew perfectly well things were just right if his protégés were able to let loose like that despite the hectic weeks they'd had.

Shuichi laughed cheekily and gave a full-body stretch as he stood. A soft humming escaped the singer as they headed out of the park, back to the apartment they'd rented for the duration of their stay in America. He watched with a slight, happy smile as Hiro took the bags from K before Suguru got hold of them, keeping them out of reach of the shorter male with a laugh. He couldn't have been any more content than he was at that very moment.

Or so he thought, before Yuki seemed to appear next to him, close enough their arms brushed slightly. The singer nearly melted at the contact, knowing that was almost the equivalent of holding hands for the author. He tilted his head back and grinned at the blond, gluing himself to the man's side and slipping an arm around his waist with a sigh.

The short walk back to the apartment passed in relative silence, none of them feeling the need to break it except to point out a particularly festive Christmas decoration or something of the like; satisfied to simply enjoy the evening in each other's company. They arrived at the apartment and "goodnights" filled the air as they disappeared into their respective rooms: Hiro and Suguru to one, Yuki and Shuichi to the one next to them, and K and his guns across the hall.

Softly playing Christmas music drifted out when Yuki opened their door, drifting around them and gently beckoning them into the warm apartment. Shuichi toed off his boots as soon as he was inside before skidding across the wood floor to the window. He stared out with wide eyes, watching in awe as the snow began falling more heavily, nearly obscuring the view past a few feet. His breath fogged the glass and he reached up to wipe it away, barely noting that he was still wearing his coat as he kept his attention on the sight outside.

Yuki slipped off his long black coat and folded it length-wise, tossing it over the back of a chair as he glanced at Shuichi, watching the younger male a moment before moving up behind him. Reaching around, he silently unfastened and unzipped the damp coat, shaking his head faintly as he peeled it off and tossed it over a chair as well. "That's a good way to get sick," he murmured, slowly rubbing his hands up and down the singer's chilled arms.

Shuichi immediately snuggled back against the blond, grasping his arms and pulling them around himself with a soft hum. "You can keep me warm so I won't get sick then," he replied with a smile. He turned his head enough to nuzzle Yuki's neck, laughing softly when the older man flinched away at the touch of his cold nose. "Apparently you're not doing your job," he teased.

Reaching a hand up, the author lightly pinched the vocalist's nose and rubbed it briefly. "I don't see how it's my responsibility when you're the one stupid enough to wear wet clothes in the middle of winter," he replied idly, glancing down at his lover with a raised eyebrow.

"Because if I get sick, K will probably shoot you?" the younger man replied with a grin, amusement dancing in his violet eyes. He reached up and tugged Yuki's hand away from his nose, kissing the palm before settling back and moving his eyes to the window again. His eyes widened when he noticed it looked like a mild blizzard was forming; he'd never seen so much snow at one time before and was completely mesmerised by it.

The music from the radio changed, the sound of a violin floating through the air in an instrumental version of _Silent Night_. Shuichi's eyes fell half-closed at the sound, having immediately fallen in love with American Christmas music when Yuki bought an instrumental CD of it their first day there. The music, combined with his lover's warm hands gently rubbing the backs of his own, was effectively putting him in a peaceful, sleep-like state.

The feeling was short-lived, however, as he pulled his eyes away from the wildly swirling snow to meet the reflection of that amber gaze in the glass. Yuki's eyes were unfocused, staring unblinkingly into the white storm at something only he could see. Shuichi felt a strange twinge in his chest at the sight. He leaned forward enough to turn in the blond's arms, Yuki's hands sliding to his waist the only indication that the man noticed the movement.

"Yuki..?" he asked softly, resting his hands just below his lover's ribcage. He noticed a faint shifting beneath the golden orbs, though he wasn't quite able to place the reason before the taller man had focused on him. He offered a smile and hesitantly reached a hand up, resting it on the blond's cheek.

Yuki barely registered the light touch as he stared calmly at the violet-eyed male. He berated himself mentally for losing himself in his memories like that, for letting the familiar images dredge up unwanted emotions and reminiscence. Sliding his hands up the singer's back, he leaned down and pressed their lips together, forcing his tongue past yielding lips as he sought to ground himself more firmly in the present.

Shuichi's fingers clenched gently in the other man's shirt, a subtle tingle running down his spine like it always did when Yuki kissed him. But something was off. The kiss felt a bit desperate, something he'd rarely experienced when kissing the other man. It was over within moments, the author breaking the contact and pulling away, turning to move toward the small kitchen. He stared after his lover for a moment, lightly tracing his fingers over his lips before following.

Yuki ambled into the kitchen and put water in the hotpot, plugging it in mechanically before reaching for a teabag and hot chocolate packet. Distractions were good. He'd learned that over the years he'd spent writing; learned that finding something that took absolutely no concentration allowed the mind to go on pause for a while. That was what he needed, a short break to settle his thoughts into something more familiar and manageable. Otherwise, he wasn't sure he wouldn't break down in front of Shuichi. And that wasn't something he cared to do.

The singer paused in the entranceway, watching his lover pull the items out of the cupboard along with two cups before moving to sit in a chair at the table. He stared silently at Yuki's back, wondering what had upset him so much and afraid he already knew the answer. "Yuki.... Why'd you come with me?" he asked curiously after a long moment.

"You pestered me enough I didn't really have a choice," was the immediate response. The heating water made itself known then with a gradually increasing whine, a steady line of steam filling the air. He unplugged the appliance and poured the water into the cups, tossing a spoon into the hot chocolate before turning to hand it to the other male.

Shuichi glanced up at the blond. "I only did because you had that look that meant you wanted me to..." he replied softly, reaching out to take the drink. His fingers brushed against his lover's and he savoured the contact before it was broken.

Yuki turned sharply on his heel and grabbed his own cup, tossing the teabag in the trash on his way out of the kitchen. He was suddenly acutely aware of how close the younger male had gotten, and how much he'd come to depend on that closeness. He suddenly saw that their entire relationship was swirling into a twisted mockery of what he'd had long ago, and that realisation cut deeper than the knowledge that he could possibly love Shuichi.

Heading into the bedroom he sank down onto the bed and leaned back against the headboard. It was all becoming so dangerous... Everywhere he looked from now on, he was sure to be reminded of what he'd once had and what he could never really have again. He wasn't stupid. He knew the blurry memories he had were a self-defense, and he wasn't sure if getting any closer to Shuichi would mean he would get those memories back. And what it would mean if he did, he didn't care to find out.

In the kitchen, Shuichi sat in silence for a long while, idly stirring his hot chocolate and staring into the dark liquid, his thoughts spinning through his mind with no chance to sort them. "Why do things always have to turn so complicated...?" he whispered, hating the silence suddenly. The quiet that had been peaceful not twenty minutes ago was suddenly oppressing, the barely audible radio and steady, consistent _tick... tick... tick..._ of the clock grating on his nerves. When would he get even a small break that didn't turn exhausting within hours? When would he be able to relax and finally say he accomplished something without having it overshadowed by a loss?

He pushed the un-tasted drink away and crossed his arms on the table, burying his face in the crook of one and closing his eyes. He sat there, unmoving, until the clock in the other room chimed eleven. It was nearing Christmas Eve. Opening his eyes, he slowly sat up and stood, picking up the cup of now-cold liquid and dumping it down the drain. He rinsed it out and sat it in the sink before making his way out of the kitchen, flicking the lights off as he went.

The singer approached the bedroom and hesitated momentarily before peeking in, mildly surprised to find his lover still awake and standing before the large window on the opposite side of the room. He stepped inside and quietly moved to stand behind Yuki, slipping his arms around the slim waist and resting his cheek against the blond's shoulder blade.

"You're still awake," he murmured softly after a long moment, tilting his head to look out at the still-falling snow.

Warmth against his back, a soft voice near his ear, and slim arms around his waist. Yuki wasn't quite sure where his mind had wandered this time, the images fading before he could get a conscious grip on them, but he was carried back to the present by the familiar sensations. "So are you," he replied, just as softly, not able to find the strength to raise his voice any louder.

"We should get to bed..." Shuichi pulled back reluctantly, tugging lightly on the author's arm to pull him to the large bed.

The writer turned slowly, resisting the tug momentarily as he studied his younger lover before giving in. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed and slipped a sweatpants-covered leg between Shuichi's, having changed not too long ago.

The singer smiled faintly in the near-darkness, taking the invitation and settling himself in Yuki's lap. He wrapped his arms and legs securely around his lover, encasing him in a warm embrace as he rested their foreheads together. Noticing the almost empty look in the dark-golden eyes, he frowned, wishing Yuki would tell him what was bothering him even though he knew it'd take a miracle for that to happen.

"I love you..." he whispered in an attempt to keep from asking what was wrong, accepting that he wasn't likely to get an answer. He slowly brushed his fingers through the silky strands of blond hair, pressing their lips together in a brief, chaste kiss. Feeling Yuki's arms slip around his waist, he continued his ministrations, keeping his movements slow and what he hoped to be soothing.

Yuki felt himself relax bit by bit, not having realised how tense he'd become until then. His eyes drifted closed with a soft sigh, sliding a hand up to bury his fingers in Shuichi's thick hair as he tilted his head, resting it against the smaller man's neck. He regularly found himself amazed that the younger male seemed to always know what he needed. A shiver passed through his body as soft lips brushed against a sensitive ear, causing his fingers to twitch faintly in pleasure.

"Yuki?" Shuichi's voice was soft, hardly above a whisper, as his fingers lightly played with the short strands of hair at the back of Yuki's neck. He wasn't expecting any form of acknowledgment, not when the novelist was like this, but he desperately needed to hear his lover's voice, even if it was only to tell him to shut up.

The blond opened his eyes and slowly straightened, reaching up to trail a finger down Shuichi's cheek as he looked into wide eyes. The moonlight reflecting off the snow through the window highlighted the younger male's face, sharply accentuating his features and glinting off the dark orbs. Dark orbs that, just for an instant, combined with the messy, wind-blown brown hair to remind him painfully of the one who destroyed him. It took him a moment to realise he'd tightened his grip on Shuichi, enough to cause him to squirm in discomfort, and another to notice that his jaw was hurting from clenching it. "I'm going for a walk," he said, wondering how his voice could sound so calm when he was shaking inside.

"No, Yuki," Shuichi pleaded, resisting as the author tried to push him away, instinctively knowing he shouldn't let the novelist leave. He flinched as a stronger shove sent him sprawling, wincing as his elbow struck the hardwood floor before looking up at Yuki. "Please don't..." he begged, not making any move to get up, knowing if the blond truly wanted to leave he had no chance to stop him. He'd seen the flash of emotions in his lover's eyes, gone too quickly for him to recognise anything beyond the suffering, and he didn't want Yuki losing himself in the darkness of his memories.

Yuki gazed down at the singer, feeling a momentary surge of remorse for pushing Shuichi to the floor before he squashed the emotion and stood. He turned and walked out of the bedroom, paying no heed to his state of dress as he headed for his coat in the living room. The apartment felt hot and he needed to get away, outside where it was nearly freezing, before he suffocated.

The younger man glanced out the window before he finally pushed himself to his feet and followed, leaning against the wall and wrapping his arms around himself. He felt cold suddenly; afraid something would happen to his lover while his was out in the storm, and he felt his chest tighten in response to that fear. "Please, Eiri," he said quietly in a last-ditch effort, hoping the use of the writer's real name would give him some leverage. He held his breath as Yuki paused in the act of putting his coat on.

The sound of his name was the last straw, and Yuki felt something that had been drawn taught for far too long shatter inside. He felt the thick material of his coat slip through his fingers to fall into a heap on the floor. His legs suddenly felt weak, and he nearly followed the same path before he caught himself on the back of the chair. He felt a sob building in his chest and swallowed it before it could escape, raising a trembling hand to his face as he struggled to keep his breathing even. He had no clue what was happening to him, only knowing it had to somehow be Shuichi's fault.

Shuichi bit his lower lip as he continued leaning against the wall, not able to bring himself to move closer in case Yuki pushed him away. So long as he stayed where he was, he knew there was a chance the blond wouldn't leave.

Straightening after a long moment, the novelist let out a slow breath and dropped his hand to his side, his golden eyes flicking briefly to Shuichi before he turned to the large window. He crossed his arms over his chest and shifted to sit on the sill, keeping one foot planted on the floor as he propped his other on the ledge. Through the swirling flakes of ice he could just make out Central Park, knowing that if it had been a clear night he would have easily been able to see a specific tree behind a certain bench. A soft, bitter, breath of a laugh escaped him as he let his head fall forward, meeting with the frigid glass with a quiet _thunk_. Why had he come, indeed?

The younger man finally pushed himself off the wall and slowly padded over on socked feet, stopping beside Yuki and looking down at him with a solemn expression. He tightened his arms around himself to keep from reaching out, noticing the look in his lover's eyes that meant he was lost in thought and would, if given the chance, eventually speak. He wasn't disappointed.

"We used to spend a lot of time in the park..." Yuki finally whispered, the glass fogging briefly from his exhaled breath. For some reason he felt the need to speak, to fill in the holes he'd left when he told Shuichi everything so long ago on their first date; the first and last time he'd spoken about it. "It was like a tradition between us, to meet near the park for lunch before doing anything else," he continued quietly.

Shuichi felt his heart clench and took a step closer, letting one hand fall to rest on his lover's knee as his other arm stayed wrapped around his stomach. He wanted to tell Yuki he didn't have to talk about it if he didn't want to before stopping himself, realising maybe the other man _needed_ to talk about it. Biting his lip, he moved even closer to the blond, offering his warmth as he listened in silence.

The taller male closed his eyes, loosing himself in the flickering memories of the few happy moments in his life, opening them before he could be pulled into the darker ones that quickly followed. "He was the first person I felt like I could be myself around, and like a spider to its prey, I was drawn to that..." he murmured softly. "I became dependent on him, and within a few weeks I was wrapped tightly around his finger. I hung on every word he said like it was gospel truth, and any suggestions he made I scrambled to achieve."

A touch of bitterness edged into his words and he fell silent for a long moment, not quite sure what he was trying to say or if he was even trying to say anything. Part of him realised he was merely putting things out in the open, only voicing whatever thoughts he deemed the most important as the others continued swirling through his head. But he also knew he was subconsciously trying to shed light onto one of his biggest fears.

"I think that's why bits and pieces of that day... are strikingly clear while everything else is a blurred mess..." he murmured. He felt his throat tightening in warning and clenched his jaw, swallowing hard as he stared intently into the snow-dusted night sky. "To remind me," he continued, "that there's a monster in everyone..."

A soft sob escaped Shuichi as he raised a trembling hand to Yuki's cheek, gently wiping away the dampness he found there. "Yuki," he whimpered quietly. Seeing the taller man flinch slightly, at his touch or maybe his use of Yuki's name, he bit his lip and let his hand slide down the author's arm, coming to rest lightly on his elbow. He wasn't sure what to do, though seeing his lover's usually infallible mask slowly crumbling reassured him that there was indeed a part of Eiri still very much alive inside.

"Eiri..." the blond said quietly, not able to stand the sound of that name at the moment. He finally lifted his head from the glass, resting it against the wall behind him as he glanced at the younger male. He looked completely relaxed except for where his hands were clenched into fists, his fingers buried in the cloth of his long-sleeved shirt.

The singer nodded faintly. "Eiri," he replied, smiling weakly and massaging the arm in his grasp as he struggled to find a way to voice his thoughts. The author's last words continued drifting through his mind, weighing as if they held a deeper meaning than just a pessimistic view of people. "Is... that why you treat me like you do?" he eventually asked, gazing out the window since he couldn't bring himself to look in his lover's eyes.

Eiri was silent as he let his eyes trace over Shuichi's face before sighing softly. "Perhaps..."

"But I'm not... I'm not like him," Shuichi protested, frowning and turning a distraught gaze on the author. It nearly killed him to think the author thought of him like that; someone who would take advantage of him at the first chance.

"Maybe not," the blond replied quietly, shifting an arm to brush his fingers against the back of the younger male's hand. "But sometimes, you do or say something that lets me catch a glimpse of who I might have once been..."

The brunette's eyes widened as his lover's words sank in, tightening his grip on the novelist's arm as he realised Eiri had been talking about himself when he said there was a monster in everyone. "You're afraid of treating me like he did you," he whispered. Seeing Eiri nod slightly, he reached a hand up to tangle in the blond strands, leaning down and resting their foreheads together. "Our relationship is different from that though," he murmured, lightly rubbing the cool area from where the other man had been resting against the window.

Eiri's eyes drifted half-shut with a soft sigh. "I still have no intention of leading you on like he did..."

"Let me tell you a secret," Shuichi replied, tilting his head with a small smile. "It's a little too late for things like that to matter," he whispered into his lover's ear. "I may be naïve, but I think after this long I would have realised if you had any ulterior motives. You're not a heartless bastard, no matter how much you try to convince yourself that you are," he added firmly.

The author tilted his head to look at Shuichi, his expression thoughtful but clear. Something flickered in his eyes and, just for a moment, it looked as though the sixteen-year-old boy he'd buried deep inside himself had surfaced. He slowly sat up and shifted so that both his feet were on the floor, slipping his arms around the singer's waist without breaking eye contact. "You really believe that?" he asked quietly, staring intently into dark-violet orbs.

"I do," the shorter male replied without hesitation, resting his arms atop the blond's. "After a couple years of living together, I'd like to think I know your true character. Even if I don't completely understand you, I'm not going to stop loving you. I can't. You've been a pillar of support for me when I needed it most, even if you didn't want to be or realised you were. I'm not concerned about what happened in the past because all that matters to me is the here and now," he continued, gradually leaning forward until they were a mere breath's breadth apart. "I love you, Uesugi Eiri, whether you want me to or not," he whispered stubbornly

Eiri snickered softly at that before tilting his head and closing the distance between their lips, feeling a tingle of heat curl up his spine moments before Shuichi's fingers tightened on his arms with a soft moan. His lips moved slowly over the singer's, pressing gently and carefully as if it were a first kiss as he pulled his lover closer.

Shuichi gladly complied, pressing their bodies together as he melted from the kiss. Sparks of warmth were spreading through his body, causing him to go weak in the knees and slide his arms around the author's neck to keep from sinking to the floor. His whole being was centered on that delicious point of contact, everything else drifting away. Soft whimpers of pleasure that he couldn't have stopped if he had tried escaped as their tongues met with a slick heat, sending shivers down his spine. His eyes fluttered open when the kiss broke what seemed an eternity later, looking at Eiri with hazed-over eyes.

The blond's hands moved against the small of Shuichi's back, causing the shirt to ride up enough to expose a bit of skin. He brushed his fingers against the warm flesh before stilling them to rest on the younger male's slim hips, listening as the radio that had been ignored up until then changed into a slow piano instrumental.

More shivers ran through the singer at the touches on his back, ducking his head to nuzzle his lover's neck. He didn't want this to end; wanted to stay locked in the tenuous moment where all barriers seemed to have been completely removed. "Dance with me?" he asked softly, sliding his hands down Eiri's arms as he stood a bit straighter.

Eiri looked at Shuichi for a few heartbeats before standing, keeping his arms around the other man as he guided them to the middle of the room. One arm slid up the brunette's back to rest a hand on the back of his shoulder, the other staying firmly wrapped around the slim waist. He began swaying to the music, moving his feet in slow steps that took them in a graceful path around the room.

Shuichi sighed happily and nestled his head against the author's neck, his arms draping loosely over his lover's shoulders. His fingers buried into the blond hair as he relaxed, following Eiri's lead around the room. "I never knew you could dance," he murmured after a while, his eyes half-closed from being almost asleep.

"You never asked," was the whispered reply, warm breath washing against Shuichi's ear. He felt the faint shiver that passed through the slender body, tightening his grip momentarily and letting his head fall forward to rest his cheek against the singer's.

The shorter male laughed and pressed his lips against the area just below the blond's ear. "Now that I know, you have to take me dancing sometime," he said, stroking the back of Eiri's neck.

"Mm..." the taller man hummed in response, gradually slowing his steps until they were simply swaying gently to their own music, the radio forgotten. "Maybe," he murmured, brushing his fingers through the silky brown hair.

Shuichi tilted his head into the touches, his eyes closing the rest of the way with something close to a purr. The chiming of the clock striking midnight pulled him out of his trance-like state some time later and he nuzzled Eiri's neck as he realised they'd stopped moving. "It's Christmas Eve," he said in hushed tones.

"So it is..." Eiri responded softly, brushing his fingers against the smooth skin of the singer's cheek. "We should get to bed," he added, sliding his hands down to the shorter man's hips.

A sigh slipped past Shuichi's lips as he reluctantly stepped back, leaning up to kiss his lover on the cheek before turning and moving to flip the radio off. From the corner of his eye he watched as Eiri slowly kneeled down to pick up his coat and smooth it over the back of the chair, glancing out the window at the dusting of snow that was falling before turning to him. He offered a smile in the light of the moon, his breath catching as the blond returned it, albeit faintly. Reaching over, he slipped his arm around the other man's waist as they headed to the bedroom.

The author sank down onto the bed and slipped beneath the covers, gold-hued orbs watching as Shuichi quickly changed into sweatpants and a tank-top before crawling in next to him. The younger male curled up against him, pressing the length of their bodies together and resting a hand on his chest.

"Thank you," Shuichi whispered, nuzzling Eiri's neck as he settled in for the night. He wasn't sure exactly what he was thanking his lover for; perhaps for the dance, maybe for the chance to see Eiri without his shields up, or for being able to understand his lover just a bit more, though most likely for all of the above. He smiled as the blond kissed him on the head and slipped an arm around him, curling closer to Eiri as they settled in. He was sure by morning, things between them would be back to how they had been, but he'd content himself with being able to see past his lover's shields just once; he had to, since there wasn't much he could do about it.

"Go to sleep, Shuichi," Eiri murmured, his voice heavy with sleep.

Shuichi smiled slightly. "Hai," he replied, closing his eyes and slipping into a peaceful slumber.


End file.
